While most of the New World is devoted to selling
varietal wines based around a single grape, some producers in South
Africa are trying to rally around the idea of marketing a blend.
They’ve already agreed on three points: the wine’s red,
the name is “Cape Blend,” and the grapes come from…the
Cape. The rest is kind of up in the air.

Those behind the idea face a Catch-22. They want
to have a name for these wines that conjures up something distinctive
in the imagination of wine drinkers, something evocative of the
wine’s origins. But, as in much of the New World, no one wants
to restrict winemakers with excessive regulation, which would limit
their choices when making and blending their wine. Given a lot of
freedom, even if all the winemakers who choose to make Cape Blends
make wonderful wines, will they possess an identifiable, distinctive
character as a group?

In recent history South Africa has been known
for Pinotage, a varietal developed in 1925 by Professor A.I. Perold
by crossing Pinot Noir and the Southern Rhone blending-grape Cinsault.
It tends to make a chewy, tannic, medium-bodied wine with pungent
fruit aromas. Given its already-existing association with South
African wine, many feel that Pinotage should constitute a reasonable
percentage – say 30-70% - of any “Cape Blend”-labeled
wine.

The problem is that not all of the would-be “Cape
Blend” producers feel Pinotage merits inclusion, whatever
its name-recognition value. Under apartheid, South Africa’s
vineyard management techniques lagged behind those developing elsewhere,
and Pinotage has the hardiness and resistance to viruses to survive
with little assistance. But for it to make a good wine, more careful
work in the vineyard is needed. There have been improvements in
Pinotage quality since the end of apartheid, but you can say the
same for South African Cabernet, Chenin Blanc, and other varietals
as well.

Some feel Pinotage still hasn’t –
and may never – catch up. The Winery of Good Hope, for example,
produces several different lines of wine, with nary a drop of Pinotage
among them. Managing Director Alex Dale is quite vocal about his
dislike for the grape. He makes a few wonderful blends – the
Radford Dale line has Gravity, a Merlot (47%), Shiraz (27%), Cabernet
Sauvignon (25%) blend, and the Black Rock label, a Shiraz (76%),
Grenache (10%), Carignan (14%) blend; are these inadequately Cape-like
to merit the “Cape Blend” title?

Inventing a regionally-based blend is an attempt
to make up for lost time. Pinotage could be a unifying element;
at the moment Cape Blends include Bordeaux-style blends (Cabernet
Sauvignon, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Malbec, and/or Petit Verdot),
Rhone-style blends (Syrah, Grenache, Mourvedre, Cinsault…),
and “Aussie” blends like Cab-Shiraz.

There are three kinds of “brands”
in the wine world: producer (“brand” in the usual sense),
varietal (as in “Sideways weakened sales of the Merlot
brand while giving renewed impetus to Pinot Noir”), and region,
be it Oakville, Bordeaux, or Hunter Valley. Region and grape function
as brands with consumers even though they are generally shared by
multiple companies. In the Old World, varietal was rarely a brand,
and in the 1920s France started codifying its wine laws, such that
varietals were officially subsumed by geography. It was redundant
to say, for example, a Burgundy Pinot Noir. If it’s Burgundy
and it’s red, then Pinot Noir is a given. At the moment, however,
many consumers aren’t comfortable with that, and that’s
one of the reasons the French wine industry is pretty unhappy at
the moment.

The New World has started with the grape, answering
the question “What is it?” before “Where’s
it from?” Merlot. Pinot Noir. Syrah. As vintages pass, we’re
starting to find certain place-varietal combinations that we like:
Willamette Valley Pinot Noir; Finger Lakes Riesling; Hunter Valley
Semillon. But European-style regulation is a long way off. If someone
offers me a red wine from Rutherford, I may assume it’s a
Cab, but not because some part of the government says it has to
be. Place is taking its place in New World wines, but varietal remains
the primary focus of consumers.

With varietal marketing in the lead at the moment,
it seems strange that South Africa would want to focus on regionality.
Most Americans don’t have many preconceptions – or knowledge
– about the Cape’s wines, apart from Pinotage, and perhaps,
Chenin Blanc (sometimes sold by its local name, Steen). Right now
I’d hazard that when an American buys a South African wine,
it’s based on the varietal. Perhaps the Cape Blend category
will instead preempt the varietal question. What grape is it? Oh,
it’s a blend. Emphasizing geography and blends is
also more common in Europe, and South African wines often have an
appealing Old World style – leaner, with higher acidity. More
food friendly and less over-the-top. To some extent the Cape Blend
category acknowledges a European role model.

In the long run countries will have to turn to
geography to market their wines. After all, New Zealand doesn’t
own the name Sauvignon Blanc – anyone can try and grow it.
But New Zealand does own Marlborough, where they make their wonderful
wines from Sauvignon Blanc. South Africa has the Cape. Over time
certain varietals – maybe Pinotage, maybe Cabernet, maybe
Syrah – may win out in the blend and come to dominate as the
grape most suited to the Cape. For now, the blend allows everybody
to hedge their bets.